lucky
by moochis
Summary: Their relationship is made up of little moments. [Collection of drabbles following the pairing of America & Japan.]
1. anniversary

**these were all done for ameripan week back in 2017!**

* * *

"Are you sure you can do this?" Porcelain fingers were laced with sun kissed, dark eyebrows knit together in concern.

"You underestimate me, babe," Even though he said that, his grip was so tight his knuckles were turning white, and the tattoo artist has yet to even begin prepping him. Alfred was laying on his stomach in one of the cushy cots of the tattoo parlor, his shirt in Kiku's lap. "Besides, I can't back out now. You've already gotten yours done."

Kiku glanced down towards his left side, where his tattoo had just finished healing. Though it lay hidden under his shirt, the image was engraved in his mind. "You aren't very good with pain."

The blonde laughed, though it was nervous. "I've been through worse, right? A tattoo ain't nothing." Alfred flashed a heroic smile that never failed to melt Kiku's heart. "But if I start crying, do _not_ tell Arthur."

"Of course."

With that, the artist got to work.

Two hours of excruciating pain later - with Kiku's hand being the real victim with the way Alfred was holding onto it - the tattoo was finished.

"How's it look?" Alfred tried to crane his neck to get a better view.

The petals of the chrysanthemum flower took up a small section of his side, black ink still fresh against the skin. They would have to return next week for the coloring, but the design they had chosen together was so _fitting_ on Alfred.

The decision to get matching tattoos of the others' national flower for their 164th anniversary took months to agree on (though, the actual decision to get a tattoo was something Kiku was unsure about in the first place), but when they finally did agree, weeks were spent going over designs. Pinterest boards were made, google searches went on for hours, meetings went over their heads in lieu of researching the process of receiving a tattoo. Kiku had settled on a design of two roses, blushing red, while Alfred chose a chrysanthemum that mimicked the brightness of the sun.

Kiku couldn't stop himself from lightly tracing the design with his fingers, a grin on his lips. "It looks perfect."


	2. gifts - promises

The first thing Kiku noticed upon waking up was that there was an absence of warmth next to him. The second thing he noticed was that he wasn't woken up with a sleepy kiss pressed to his forehead with a slurred "g'morning".

(No matter how many times he is woken up like that, Kiku can't bring himself to become annoyed or tired of it).

The discarded tshirt he had taken from the edge of the bed fit loosely around his shoulders and reached down to his mid thighs, the faint smell of cheap cologne a comforting smell as he set his toes on the cold ground. His eyes met scattered flower petals in a trail leading out of the room, a deep scarlet color. Curiosity and amusement bubbled inside him, and with careful steps around the petals, he followed the trail down the hallway and descended the staircase.

Their shared home was not very spacious to begin with - so when Kiku stepped through the doorway leading to the living room, he was expecting to see the usual couch and loveseats, mail-covered coffee table settled a few feet away from the television mounted on the wall.

He was not expecting to see vases upon vases upon vases of red petaled roses. He might as well have been standing in the middle of a rose garden with the amount of flowers surrounding him. The island nation was at a complete loss for words, though a few thoughts ran through his head (most ran along the lines of "we'll need to water _all_ of these, our water bill is going to be atrocious") as he picked up one of the many cards placed near one of the vases.

_"July 8th, 1853,_

_I've never met someone as mysterious as Japan. His culture, his sights, his everything is so unique and interesting. He's one of the most beautiful people I've seen. I'm debating sending him a letter - I don't want to come off as clingy so quickly. Especially when he probably doesn't like me very much... understandably. Commodore Perry wasn't the most charming._

_Nevertheless. I'm sending him a letter."_

It read like a journal entry more than a card. The handwriting was unmistakably Alfred's, however, and the wording matched his vocabulary just as well. Looking around the room once more, there were cards next to every vase in the room. Kiku set down the card in his hand and picked up the next one, reading the date scrawled in the upper left corner.

_"March 12th, 1865,_

_It's been a little over ten years since we've met and I'm still left dazzled by Kiku (yes, I've finally learned his name after many failed attempts). He's very quiet and likes to keep to himself, which I sort of understand, given how he locked himself away for over two hundred years, but he's still a very interesting person. I wonder if he would ever want to visit me, sometime? I'm nervous to bring up the question. I wouldn't want him assuming the worst about me."_

_"June 3rd, 1903,_

_We write letters to each other every day. Despite our duties as nations, we try to spend time together outside of work. Is it weird to say that I feel human when I'm with Kiku?"_

_"March 27th, 1912,_

_Kiku has given me one of the most gorgeous gifts I've ever received - over three thousand cherry trees. I was completely speechless. They look perfect planted along 17th street, but nothing looked as perfect as Kiku did. Granted, he was only wearing his usual japanese attire, but he still looked stunning. I was certain my heart would break out of my chest, my hands were trembling and my stomach was flip flopping the entire day._

_What kind of sickness have I come down with?_

_I promised him an equal present in the future. I need to think about this seriously. Should I buy him a flower shop?"_

The journal entries covered over one hundred years of their relationship, all from Alfred's point of view, and every card made Kiku's heart somersault. He couldn't help but chuckle at specific entries (Alfred was too nervous to talk to him? Kiku could barely breathe around the blonde, even today), and soon enough the dates began to catch up with the current date.

_"He still talks to me, even after everything that's happened -"_

_"Can a person be this pretty? I didn't think it's possible, but Kiku's proven me wrong again -"_

_"Wow, I'm stupid in love with him and I think he knows, but he hasn't left yet so maybe he likes me, too?"_

_"We moved in together and it's everything I could have ever wanted, but I'm still convinced he's only with me because he feels bad for me -"_

_"Just finished buying half of the roses, I'll need to wake up early tomorrow to get the rest -"_

"Aw, damn. You weren't supposed to wake up yet."

Kiku looked up from the card he was reading, where Alfred stood in the doorway of the living room with another armful of roses. The blonde gave a sheepish smile. "I told myself I'd get you a flower shop worth of roses."

Kiku couldn't help but smile, pulling Alfred's collar down to meet his lips. This was well worth their water bill increasing for the next few months.


	3. domestic

"You're picking Emily up from soccer practice, right?"

"No, Kiku, I'm leaving her there and running away with you."

_"Ha ha."_

"Yes, babe, I'm picking her up. You know the soccer moms love me," The blonde held his phone between his shoulder and cheek, scrawling a signature at the bottom of a page. "They'd probably freak out worse than Emily would if I didn't show."

Alfred could hear the smile in Kiku's voice. "You're right about that. They hardly pay attention to the game when you're around."

"Is that - _jealousy_ I hear?"

Kiku scoffed on the other end. "I'm not jealous. If anything, _they_ should be jealous of me." There was another voice in the background, and he heard quick Japanese being exchanged between the two. Alfred signed another page as he idly eavesdropped, barely being able to translate what was being said before Kiku returned. "I've got to go. I'll get started on dinner when I get home."

"Ooh, what are we having?" If there was one thing that he looked forward to, it was Kiku's cooking.

"I...will get back to you on that."

Alfred chuckled. "Keeks, you could literally give me rabbit food and I'd still love it."

More rushed Japanese before it melted into English. "I have given you 'rabbit food'. You and Emily both hate vegetables." He sighed, and Alfred could see Kiku running a hand through his hair. "I really do have to go. Text me when you've gotten Emily?"

"Yup. Love you."

"Love you, too."

The blonde pocketed his phone, reshuffling the stack of papers on his desk. He had a very important meeting with the soccer moms at his daughter's practice that he did not plan on missing.

(He was sure there would be home made rice krispies at practice and definitely did not plan on missing those, either.)


	4. sightseeing - honeymoon

If you asked Kiku, he wouldn't call it a honeymoon.

If you asked Alfred, he would definitely call it a honeymoon "and then some".

Nations could not technically get married, but after having gold bands on their fingers for so many years, they might as well have been married.

Which is then, Alfred realized, that they hadn't had a proper "honeymoon" after being "married" for so long. Kiku couldn't bring himself to argue - even if he didn't necessarily agree with the title of their week long outing to Kyoto, Japan.

(Not that Kiku would remember some of it - the interesting bits - and that is where we must discuss the "and then some" aspect of Alfred's statement).

Let it be known that Kiku Honda could not hold his liquor very well. At all. Not in the slightest. It was as if one drop of sake made his knees give out and cheeks flush.

(That is an exaggeration from Alfred's perspective, but he has good reason to think so).

Alfred knows about the asian's weakness when given alcohol, and knows very well how to respond and manage an intoxicated Kiku Honda, but it would just so happen that, quite miraculously, the blonde might have had too much to drink himself. It is miraculous because he is _known_ for handling his liquor well, something that surprises many others (mainly a grumpy, scruffy haired blonde).

Which is how they find themselves in their current position: almost naked but not quite there because neither of them can stop giggling over fumbling fingers and sake-induced hiccups.

Kiku is halfway through unbuttoning Alfred's dress shirt, cold hands brushing over warm skin as he sits on his lap on the bed of their hotel room. The blonde shivers, laughs in a way that makes Kiku's chest warm. "You've been - you've been trying to get this off for hours."

"I have not," he tries to sound earnest because in the back of his mind he knows that Alfred's exaggerating, but then he's too absorbed in the alcohol and stupid buttons keeping him from seeing his husband shirtless (is Alfred really his _husband?_ When was the wedding reception?). The last button is almost torn off, but he manages to remove it as civilly as one could while heavily intoxicated. He pushes the fabric off of his shoulders, down his arms. "See? It's off."

Those same cold hands find themselves on broad shoulders, running across the faint freckles there. Alfred finds this funny, for some reason. "You've seen them before."

"Seen what?"

"My freckles."

"Oh." Kiku blinks - almost sleepily - and smiles. Alfred thinks he looks like a dope. But that's _his_ dope, isn't it? "I think they're cute. Like the rest of you. You're cute. Have I told you that before?"

"I think so. Yes, you definitely have. I remember." Kiku's shirt was removed long ago, and his flush reaches down to his collarbones. A kiss is pressed to the dip in between them. "You're hot, though. Like, _really_ hot. But you know that."

Kiku laughs at that, leans against the other's shoulder as the button to his jeans is undone, the zipper pulled down. "You tell me that all the time. I actually started believing it. I _am_ hot."

His jeans are finally off of his body and it's as if he can finally breathe and the first thing he does is roll his hips against Alfred's. He may be drunk, but he knows how to turn Alfred on in any state of mind.

Alfred bites his lip, swallowing a mixture of a moan and another giggle. _"That_ was hot."

"I know." He manages to undo the button and zipper to his jeans, inwardly proud that he didn't need to even look down. He laughs at this. "Can you get the lube already? I'm tired of waiting. After it took me so long to get your shirt off."

With a request like that, how could he deny him?

Somewhere during that evening, they fall asleep against each other, panting and well spent. The next morning will be met with an unforgiving hangover and hazy memories, but the marks on their necks will be evidence enough as to what happened.

Alfred will laugh, despite it worsening the pounding in his head, and pull Kiku in for a kiss before they leave their hotel for breakfast.


	5. pets

Kiku sighed for the tenth time that morning, shooting Alfred another half hearted glare over his mug of tea. "You're spoiling him."

The blonde ignored his sigh and glare as he had done with the previous ones. "Not my fault he likes me better than you."

"He" - the cream colored fuzzball currently draped across the american's lap - was fast asleep after being fed bits of Alfred's breakfast when he thought Kiku wasn't looking, thoroughly spoiled. And it wasn't even ten in the morning yet. "Pochi doesn't like you better than me, he just likes you because you feed him in between meals. And," Kiku reached across the table to pinch at Alfred's side, "you're a much more comfortable pillow than I am."

Alfred feigned a look of hurt. "At least _someone_ appreciates my body."

Kiku rolled his eyes but kept a good natured smile on his face. "I appreciate it well enough in ways Pochi cannot show you."

"Keeks!" He covered Pochi's ears with his hands, "Dirty talk in front of the kid?"

"That was hardly dirty." The asian laughed, standing to set his mug in the sink. The dog in Alfred's lap looked up and jumped down from his comfortable spot to paw at Kiku's leg.

He knelt down to pick him up, warm and fuzzy in his arms. Alfred scoffed when Kiku gave him a satisfied smirk. "He's a momma's boy."

"That may be true," Kiku stooped to peck the blonde's cheek. "But I'm still _your_ boy."


	6. cardverse - masquerade

_Who is_ that?

A stupid question to ask himself after further blatant staring - the attire dipped in blue and accented with different shades of the same color answered his question well enough. The only kingdom with such an icy color would be none other than the Spades.

_Could such a warm face truly be from the kingdom of frost?_

No crown sat atop his head, but Kiku Honda knew that he was indeed the king. His confidence was unmatched, stride unwavering, smile dazzling and eyes so deep and _blue_ that Kiku swore he could drown in them, two perfect oceans swirling and -

He was walking _towards_ Kiku.

The queen couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't _move_ from his spot rooted to the side of the ballroom floor. The king and jack of Hearts had left his side to make acquaintances with other kingdoms and to surely discuss important issues facing their land, which is where Kiku _ought_ to be had he not been distracted by the same man crossing the ballroom towards him. He was alone.

Kiku could hardly form a sentence once the blonde had reached him, yet found he did not need to. The man dressed in blue had bowed respectfully before him, the queen quickly but gracefully mirroring his actions.

"It's quite an honor to meet the queen of the mysterious Hearts kingdom," he began, voice just as warm as the rest of him appeared to be. "I have heard much about your kingdom."

"The honor is all mine, king of the Spades." Kiku met his warmth with a cool voice. "I would hope you have heard good things."

He nodded, "Of course! Your military and navy are fine examples for other kingdoms, mine included. However," The subtle shift in tone was barely noticeable, but the queen managed to catch it. "I've heard nothing about its queen."

Kiku took a moment before answering. "I am hardly a topic of discussion."

"I respectfully beg to differ, your majesty." A pause. Then, he bowed once more - though not as deeply this time - and held out his hand.

The queen had to keep himself from sputtering, noticing the pairs of eyes beginning to settle on them. He almost missed the proposition of a dance from the king in front of him due to the curious stares burning through his robes.

His hand stayed outstretched towards Kiku, blue eyes looking up hopefully towards his behind silver framed glasses. Freckles scattered across his lightly tanned cheeks like stardust, the corners of his lips turned up in a small smile.

Kiku found himself unable to look away.

"I am not sure I would be the most suitable dance partner," he began, his cheeks growing warm. "There are many others who are much more experienced than myself."

The blonde stood to his full height, nearly towering over the queen of Hearts. "That may be true," his lips were pursed, and he glanced around the room before settling his eyes back on Kiku. "But none of them are _you."_

His gloved hand remained outstretched in an open invitation. Kiku's gaze flickered from his ocean filled eyes to the hand, and with a deep breath, hesitantly slid his hand into Alfred's. It was warm, despite the material of the white glove, and the hand that found itself on Kiku's hip was also just as comfortable. Remembering the dance lessons he had received as a child in the palace, his own unoccupied hand rested itself on Alfred's shoulder.

The music began, and Kiku let himself be lead in dance by the charming king of the Spades kingdom.


	7. red string - confession

Call it fate or call it karma, but somehow, these two had managed to always come back to each other.

Their red string had been cut and fixed many times throughout history, however; sometimes by a force out of their control, and sometimes by one of their own hands.

In one life, their love was forbidden. A dangerous relationship between commoner and royalty - of the same sex, no less - that, if discovered, could ruin Kiku's chances of marrying someone of actual royalty just as his father had demanded.

Alfred was simply a mercenary from a foreign land who happened to stumble upon the royal gardens one evening, absolutely charmed by the mysterious prince hidden between the rose bushes. Kiku was drawn to his sunny disposition almost immediately, taken by the way he spoke of his life across the ocean and how he seemed to find the goodness in everything around him.

Their string and Alfred's life was cut by none other than the king. That life taught them to be careful.

In another life, the land was torn apart by war. Kiku and Alfred met on the battlefield, and though they only had enough time to look each other in the eye before bullets went flying, somehow they both knew who each other were. That life taught them to try.

Their lives were not always tragic, however. One life had the two as high school sweethearts, stealing kisses between the bookcases in the library when no one was looking. Graduation couldn't even keep them apart, and they went on to live the rest of their days together in peace. That life taught them to be happy.

In the life that Alfred was blind, Kiku was heartbroken. He cried not for himself, but for his love - though they stayed together for their entire lives, Alfred was left in the dark for all of it. Completely oblivious to the way their bodies fit together like two puzzle pieces, how Kiku looked when he laughed, smiled, cried, or slept, what their home looked like. That life taught them to be grateful.

In this life, their string was thin, and tied to only one of their fingers.

Kiku had cut his off years ago. Living as a personified country left no time for romances, and he firmly convinced himself he was perfectly fine living on his own for the rest of eternity if he would last that long.

Of course, being the ever stubborn and reckless hero, Alfred thought otherwise. He followed his red string directly to the mysterious island of Japan one summer, finding the end of his string lying outside of a palace. He carefully picked it up, tucked it away in his pocket, and continued onward, business as usual.

He found Kiku among the cherry blossoms, the low branches hiding him away from the rest of the world. Brown eyes met blue, and somehow, they both knew. The island's lonely disposition was thrown out of the window in seconds.

The blonde fixed the string back around Kiku's finger, giving an adoring smile that spanned thousands of lifetimes. "You're an awful lot of trouble to find, you know."

"Yet we find each other every time," He matched Alfred's smile. "Let's try to last a bit longer this time."

"We're countries. I'd say we've got a few thousand years."

"And when that's gone?"

"I suppose we wait a thousand more. What's a few more years?"

Kiku laughed. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'd wait a million years for you."

Talk of waiting and future lives could come later; right now, they had enough time to make up for what their past selves couldn't do.


End file.
